


If I Leave Before You

by wasp



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasp/pseuds/wasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows who it was that left Louis naked and bleeding, he knows it’s not his fault he couldn’t love him, he knows and he knows and he knows but he doesn’t <i>understand</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Leave Before You

Liam knows he shouldn’t, he knows where they’ve drawn the lines, clear, sharp lines he knows he’s not supposed to cross. He catches himself doing it anyway. Liam’s staring at his profile, how the light catches against his eyelashes and throws spiky shadows across his cheekbones. It feels like there’s a balloon slowly filling up in his rib cage and he can either let it burst or somehow slow it down for the inevitable. With a quiet sigh, Liam forces his gaze back to his hands and tries to ignore how every nerve in his body is singing ‘ _he’sbeautifulhe’sbeautifulhe’sfuckingbeautiful’._

He tries to remember how he used to breath before Louis. He can’t quite remember how and oddly he finds he doesn’t mind.

~

Naturally Liam’s drawn to Louis. There’s something about him underneath the magnetic, bright, laughing exterior, something tender to the touch and _sad._ He used to _bleed_ , Liam watched the red seep out of his pores and stain everything he touched. He doesn’t bleed anymore, Liam notices, but he’s still wounded, he’s only stopped the blood flow. The wound’s infected like shrapnel lodged in his side, bandaged out of his sight.

Liam wants to put his mouth on his skin and fix him, patch him up and whisper in his ears that it’s going to be alright, nobody’s going to hurt him, he’s going to protect him. The words get caught in his throat, he knows how useless they are, and Liam screws his eyes shut, tries to let pleasure override the pain.

He knows Louis’ in constant agonising pain, falling apart at the seams when no-one else is watching. Sometimes Louis moves too fast, too sudden and red blooms again and Liam wants to press down, hold him tight against him. He doesn’t care if he gets cut himself.

He just wants to keep him safe. He wants to know why sadness is permanently imprinted into the corners of his young smile and who created the jagged mirror behind his eyes (he knows who it was that left Louis naked and bleeding, he knows it’s not his fault he couldn’t love him, he knows and he knows and he knows but he doesn’t _understand_ ).

~

They fuck. They fuck because Louis needs this more than he can put into words. It’s like taking something to numb the pain for a little while, he can breathe without his throat catching and his sides aching and for a moment he feels like it’ll be enough. They fuck because Liam can never say no to Louis.

Louis moves against him like the ocean, fierce, sweeping and yielding all at the same time. Liam tastes the salt on Louis’ skin, burning burning _burning_ his tongue, his finger tips, and the vulnerable insides of his knees.

Liam comes with the words ‘I love you I love you I love you’ dying on his tongue, whispered fiercely in his ear.

~

Louis struggles into his t-shirt straight after, pulling on his trousers with his head bowed.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he says, voice hoarse and broken.

Liam is stunned out of his pre-coital haze, breathe knocked out of him in a sudden punch to the throat. His mind is reeling, trying to figure out where he’s fucked up, what he’s done to destroy the carefully constructed lines.

“Why?” Liam asks making a move to reach Louis, sickness already clawing at his throat.

“I just don’t want to,” Louis says simply and looks him straight in the eye. His armour’s firmly set in place and Louis can be _cruel_ when he wants to.

But Liam knows he’s dying inside that metal cage, decaying into the stale air, and Liam can’t find a catch or an opening. He’s too late.

“Is it because of what I said?” Liam says, reaching forward to try and circle his hand around Louis’ wrist, trying to convince him to _stay._

Louis turns from him, his shoulders are set and he’s already walking away from him.

The desperate “I didn’t mean it, Louis, I don’t fucking love you,” falls on the scarred expanse of his back.


End file.
